


Tough Choice

by reliquiaen



Category: Pitch Perfect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Beca didn't pry, she knew better, but she did have a strange way of being so awkward that nothing seemed to be so bad anymore." - Kind of AU. In which secrets were never meant to be kept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Someone from the past shows up and threatens to spill one of Chloe's secrets. These are so old. u.u

On the west was the science campus with its stone buildings and neat thoroughfares. And on the east was the school of arts where the fine artists put gardens on the roofs and the band spray paints Mozart on the back of F Block. In between was the Gauntlet; a street full of book shops and cafés. Somewhere at the northern end of the Gauntlet was a bar with a dingy sign and posters blacking out one window. At the counter of this bar, whiskey glass spinning between long fingers, at three in the afternoon on a Tuesday sat Chloe.

Whiskey wasn’t usually her thing; in fact drinking on a Tuesday wasn’t usually her thing. But hiding (and that’s what it was no matter her delusions to the contrary) in this bar seemed like a pretty excellent idea right now. Well, ok, it had a few days ago. Now she was just a little bit too tipsy to be bothered going anywhere else.

It was funny – really, truly _hilarious_ – how sometimes the past actually does catch up to you. It was funny in a masochistic way at any rate. She mused cynically over the possibility that one of her high school friends would transfer to this university right now for some sick ‘the universe secretly hates you’ type purpose.

Aubrey was worried. Beca was worried. The whole team had been very surprised when she bolted from the gymnasium Sunday afternoon and hadn’t been seen or heard from since. Her phone sat beside her cup, pinging softly at unpredictable intervals. She hadn’t checked it in a while and didn’t plan on starting. It was going to be quite the extensive list of messages she’d missed.

But that was alright, because Luke was a very talented barkeep. He had kept her just drunk enough that being overly worried wasn’t a concern, but lucid enough that she knew she was being stupid about this. And she was. Chloe knew she was being stupid and childish and cowardly. But that didn’t stop her from flashing back to high school and wondering if the same thing would happen here.

Her glass was empty, she realised, and Luke was gone; no refills in sight. Sighing to herself, bemoaning the possibility that she would come up for air any minute now, she dragged her phone closer with one finger. Even as she did so it flashed another message across the screen.

She unlocked the phone and blinked at the messages. There were three from Fat Amy, four from Cynthia Rose, six from Stacie, eighteen from Aubrey and two missed calls. From Beca there were a whopping twenty-eight missed messages and eight calls, including two voicemails. It was impressive. 

Chloe spent the next few minutes sorting through them. Most were just ‘where are you’ and ‘are you okay’ ones. Although there was one from Aubrey about her missing rehearsals and another about having lunch. Beca’s were nearly incoherent and the voicemails were mostly garbled phrases and strings of words that vaguely gave the impression that she was concerned. Surprisingly, Beca was the one to send a message about her eating properly.

She sighed, collapsing against the bar, arms folded beneath her chin. This was terribly out of character for her, but when confronted with an illogical fear, her first instinct had been to run. Her fight or flight drive was weighted heavily towards flight.

Her fingers tapped absently on the screen of her phone, hovering momentarily above the call button next to Aubrey’s name. She didn’t press it. Chloe knew what Aubrey would say. There would be concerned words and condolences when Chloe eventually stuttered out her worries. Then it would be back to business, perhaps a pep talk and reminders that she was better than this. This is not what Chloe needed.

She called Beca.

The phone was answered almost instantly and she was greeted not with a typical ‘hello’ or even a rational ‘are you alright’ but with, “Who do I have to kill?”

For the first time in nearly forty-eight hours, Chloe laughed. “No one, Beca,” Chloe assured her, but her voice was raspy from alcohol and disuse. 

“I’m sure someone needs my fist in their face,” Beca maintained. “I’ve never seen you run so fast in your life.”

“I promise there’s no one you need to be hurting.”

A pause. “Well my offer will stand as long as you need. They must’ve really got you wound up if you won’t even talk to Aubrey.”

Chloe hesitated, cleared her throat, finally offered, “What makes you think I haven’t spoken to Aubrey?”

Beca chuckled, the sound distorting through the phone line. “Because I was just with her and she’s been ranting about how you’re being ‘very irresponsible’ for the last day,” Beca informed her, imitating Aubrey’s voice. “She’s not happy with you.”

Chloe had no response to that. She was being irresponsible. She mentally added that to her list of things she was doing that weren’t positive.

“Are you alright, Chlo?” Beca finally asked; her voice gentle.

Surprising even herself, Chloe admitted, “I’ve been better.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Beca’s voice dripped with unease barely concealed behind her usual wry cynicism. But she didn’t press it. “Well, when you’re finished drinking yourself into oblivion, let me know. I’ll pick you up.”

“What makes you think I’ve been drinking,” Chloe hedged.

“Your voice sounds like you’ve emptied a whole bottle of rum and whiskey in the last hour,” Beca replied flatly. “Come on, Chloe. I’d like to think I know the sound of a drunk by now.”

She sighed. That at least was true. “I’m at Luke’s bar,” she eventually provided.

“Can I tell Aubrey you’re alright?”

Forgetting that Beca couldn’t see her, Chloe shook her head. “Uh, no. I’ll call her. Can I crash at your place tonight? It’s not usually a good idea to leave Bree hanging so long and then just waltz back in like it’s nothing.” And that lesson Chloe had learned the hard way.

Beca laughed again. “Sure. I’ll be right round. Put the bottle down.” The line disconnected.

Slowly, still not convinced it was a good plan, Chloe called Aubrey.

“Oh my god. Chloe are you alright?” Aubrey nearly screeched into the phone. “Where are you? What have you been doing?”

“I’m fine, Bree,” she said, her voice not as raspy as before. “I just had to…” She had no excuse.

“You haven’t been to your classes,” Aubrey went on. “Must’ve been awful. Come back here now so we can talk about it.”

“No.”

There was a spluttering silence at the other end this time. “Why not?” Aubrey eventually got out.

“Because I know you’re mad at me for bailing,” Chloe told her. “I need you to not be worrying when I get back. I need you to not be angry at me.”

More spluttering, this was very clearly indignant too. It trailed off though and Aubrey sighed. “Alright. Feel better then. Wait. Where are you staying then?”

“With a friend,” Chloe told her. “Don’t worry; I’ll be present for the emergency meeting you’re already planning for tomorrow morning.”

She could practically see her friend frowning through the phone line. “What friend?”

“Doesn’t matter, Bree. Just take a deep breath and relax for me. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Her friend did just that and with a curt, “See you tomorrow then,” Aubrey hung up.

Not a moment too soon. The door swung inwards letting in a gust of uncomfortably warm air as it did so. Chloe sat up, glancing over her shoulder, a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the outside air flowed through her when she realised it was Beca.

“Hey,” the DJ said softly, sliding up onto a stool beside her.

“Hey,” Chloe replied.

“How’re you doing, huh? Luke let you spend the night?”

Chloe nodded. “He let me borrow his sofa.”

Beca frowned. “Did he feed you, or just supply the grog?”

“We had pizza,” she replied, feeling a smile tug at her mouth.

Snorting, Beca bumped her in the shoulder. “I promise I won’t tell Aubrey,” she said, smiling. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Chloe’s eyebrows almost got lost in her hairline and her heart pumping in her throat made talking hard all of a sudden. “Bed?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Beca replied, pulling Chloe to her feet. “I’ll use Kimmy Jin’s bed. She’s gone to a friend’s place for a week.”

“Won’t she know you’ve used her bed?” Chloe asked, feeling that smile widen. 

Beca shrugged. “Eh. She might suspect, but she won’t have proof. What do you want to eat?”

“Is that Chinese place around here somewhere?”

“Hum… I think down that way.”

“Let’s grab some chicken and noodles then.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

In a way she knew could only happen with Beca and her intimate understanding of the need for privacy, Chloe felt herself relax. Beca didn’t pry, she knew better, but she did have a strange way of being so awkward that nothing seemed to be so bad anymore. Chloe would never tell her that, but the way she groped around aimlessly for something inane to talk about was endearing. And she would never tell.

It wasn’t until almost an hour later that they were seated on Beca’s bed, laptop on her swivel chair watching cat videos on Youtube. Beca still hadn’t asked her about her weird behaviour but Chloe could feel the words tickling in the back of her throat. She didn’t really want to say them, wanted to hold onto them as hard as she could. But they sat there. Taunting her.

Beca looked at her in a terrible attempt at being covert as she closed the tab and shut her laptop. “You look ready for bed,” she noted. “I know it’s not really your colour palette, but I’ve got some greys that aren’t too alt for you if you want to get out of those clothes.”

She couldn’t help it. “Are you trying to get me undressed, Beca,” Chloe teased.

Despite the red creeping up her throat to invade her cheeks, Beca laughed. “Oh please. If I wanted to see you naked I’d suggest a shower. Do you want pyjamas or not?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Beca smiled, rolling off the bed to throw some pants and a tank top her way. Both grey, very Beca. And, no matter her ‘I’ve already seen you naked’ comments, Beca turned away as Chloe changed. She couldn’t stop a smile from slipping through.

“I thought you were sleeping on Kimmy Jin’s bed,” Chloe noted when Beca curled up on the floor.

“Uh,” Beca groaned, rolling over to stare up at her. “Yeah, I was. But she left all her crap on it and I just know she’s going to be one of those people who knows exactly where she left her shit. If I move it, I won’t put it back right. Then there _will_ be proof I slept there.” She gave an exaggerated shudder and rolled back onto her side.

Before she could even process what she was doing, Chloe reached down to the floor and grabbed cloth. She wasn’t sure what, but it might’ve been Beca’s sleeve. While the other woman was small, she still had mass and it took a moment before Beca realised Chloe was trying to haul her onto the bed.

“I won’t have you getting a sore back from sleeping on the floor,” Chloe told her, smiling, when Beca tried to shuffle away. “Come on. I don’t bite.”

“No,” Beca replied, her teeth glinting in the low light as she smiled. “But you are a bit of a perve.”

Chloe sighed. “Will I ever live that down?”

“Probably not.” But Beca crawled onto the bed anyway. “I don’t mind the floor you know.”

“You don’t have enough pillows,” Chloe muttered by way of excuse. “I need something to cuddle with in the night. And you’re about the right size to double as a pillow.” That was only partly untrue.

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Chloe wrapped an arm around her friend’s waist. And Beca let her.

 

XX

 

“Chlo!”

The door whipped open so fast a gust of wind surged into the hallway, buffeting her in the face.  
“Good morning, Bree,” she said softly. For a moment, she just stared at her friend, wondering if the blonde fury would go out of her mind this morning.

No. Aubrey stepped aside to let her in, sparing her current attire barely more than a glance. She’d woken early and Beca was still asleep, so Chloe had simply gathered her things and left. She figured it would probably be best if they turned up to the meeting separate anyway.

Chloe dropped her things in the hamper and hurriedly got changed before meeting her friend in the living room. She wasn’t _afraid_ of Aubrey. Certainly not. But then… Aubrey was a lot more upfront than Beca. Hence why she hadn’t been the one called yesterday.

“Ok, spill.” There. That’s _exactly_ why Chloe had avoided her. Aubrey wasn’t going to accept ‘no, nothing, I’m fine’ as a response though. Every time Chloe tried to walk past her she was met with a tall, blonde wall of frustration and anger.

After a moment or two, Chloe sighed in frustration. “It’s nothing alright. Please, let’s just go to the meeting.”

Aubrey grabbed her elbow. “I’ve known you for five years and this,” she used her other hand to gesture at Chloe from head to toe, “is not fine. Something spooked you on Sunday and you’re not skittish by nature so you need to tell me what happened.”

She chewed her lip for a moment, staring off to her left finding the couch extremely interesting. Then she exhaled heavily. “One of the girls I went to high school with is now attending Barden,” she mumbled.

Her friend lifted an eyebrow, clearly confused. “And?”

Chloe sank into the chair behind her and Aubrey followed, perching beside her, waiting, expectant. “She uh… Is a very observant person.”

“Still not understanding the problem here.”

She closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath and let it all out in a rush. “I had a crush on a girl at high school and this chick figured me out because I kind of wear all my emotions on my sleeve and I’m super easy to read and she told the girl I liked and she reacted badly and… And it sort of put a big damper on my senior year.” It probably sounded garbled, but she _really_ didn’t want to say that again.

“Yup,” Aubrey said slowly. “Still not seeing your dilemma.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Aubrey, she knows me really well and-”

“Better than I know you?” Aubrey cut in.

Pause. “Probably not.”

“Then whatever she can work out, I can too. What’s the big deal?”

Chloe fidgeted uncomfortably. She really didn’t want to tell Aubrey this next bit. It would go down like a bunch of sour grapes wrapped in sand paper. “I um… may or may not have a bit of a _thing_ for Beca…”

She almost wasn’t brave enough to glance over at Aubrey after that. Her friend just smiled. “Yeah, I know. You suck at hiding it. Wait, are you afraid this random girl you used to know will tell Beca how you feel?”

“Mmmm… Maybe?”

“Then why don’t you tell Beca and beat her to it.” Aubrey grumbled something after that, Chloe couldn’t hear it so well, but it sounded suspiciously like ‘not that this girl has ever met Beca’.

Chloe felt her eyes go all big just at the suggestion. “Um. No. Bree, she’s straight. She hangs out with that Jesse guy all the time.”

“Key term: hangs out,” Aubrey said sardonically. “They’re not dating. Tell her.”

Her brain accepted that information and then rejected it. _Tell Beca I think about her all the time and be incredibly bummed when she tells me she’s not interested. Or… don’t do that and not worry about it. Tough choice, Beale_.

She’d sleep on it.

 

XX

 

And Chloe did do just that. For a few days. Or a week. Maybe even a month if the matter of time was pressed. So she chickened out. Who could really blame her? Besides, Jesse was almost always around.

Even when Chloe knocked on Beca’s dorm room door one evening, thoroughly convinced that at nine in the evening on a Thursday Beca would have no company to speak of, Jesse was the one who opened the door. He smiled his school-boy smile and Chloe couldn’t help but acknowledge he was cute in a puppy dog sort of way. She understood why Beca hung out with him. She’d mumbled something about double checking that Beca knew about their practice in the morning and scurried away as fast as she could manage with any dignity.

Then, you know, she figured perhaps she could catch Beca straight after that practice session and they could go have lunch or something. (During which she would totally spill her secret.) But there he was again, lingering outside the gym, waiting for her. And sure, Beca might have punched him in the shoulder and glanced at Chloe apologetically with a quiet promise to go to lunch tomorrow, but she still laughed at Jesse’s joke and stumbled off with him.

It was really starting to bug her. And it took a good deal of effort to tick Chloe off. She was generally so mild mannered.

Of course, then there was that run in with her old high school buddy. Lara eyed her up and down, smirked, waved her purple painted fingers and sauntered over. Chloe had rolled her eyes, keeping her smile plastered on and her responses short and to the point. And of course, Beca had strolled by at _just_ that moment with Fat Amy having an animated conversation. And of course (as predicted really), Lara had interpreted the faraway look in her eyes with the exact same alacrity she’d done years ago. And of course, Chloe felt herself panic.

She went to Luke.

She spent the afternoon (a Wednesday one this time) sitting at his bar, whiskey glass in hand. He smiled sadly, Aubrey had filled him in and Chloe didn’t even have the energy to be mad about it. She was just sad.

“The alcohol won’t help, you know,” he told Chloe in his smooth British accent. Aubrey wouldn’t admit it (not with a knife to her throat), but she loved his accent. And right now in a whiskey clouded haze, even Chloe had to agree it had certain therapeutic qualities.

“It does a pretty good job at making things fuzzy though,” Chloe mumbled. “And right now, fuzzy is pretty darn good in my book.”

“I’ve never seen you so mopey,” he informed her flatly. Then he took a photo. “For posterity. Because I know you’re going to get up and tell Beca that you think about her twenty-four seven and can’t keep your eyes off her ever and then you can live happily ever after.”

Chloe pushed the glass across the bench top from one hand to the other. “I think there’s something you’re all failing to grasp: she freaking _straight_. Which, funnily enough, really makes my life hard.”

“Well, if the girl of your dreams won’t have you,” Luke said, leaning across the bar like he was about to impart the secrets of the universe. “You have to find someone else who can at least match her on a few strokes.”

She tapped a rhythm out on the glass. Then stopped herself when she realised it was the bass beat from _Titanium_. “Nope.”

“You’re being morbid and difficult.”

“Cheers, that’s enlightening.”

“God, Chloe, you’re even starting to sound like Beca,” he exclaimed with false alarm. “Was that sarcasm?”

She hunched her shoulders and rested her cheek on the cool wood. “Just top up my glass.”

“You’re done for today, miss,” he said. “Man up a little. So she might break your heart, but then you get to move on. And anything would be better than having my heart broken just looking at you. Honestly.”

“If you won’t give me drink, I’ll go someplace else,” she grumbled.

“Fine. How about this, since you’re so thoroughly convinced that she’ll shoot you down,” Luke began in a very moderate tone. “I’ll supply you with all the hard liquor you need to drown your sorrows and move on from her after you’ve told her and actually been rejected. How’s that sound?”

“I’m not telling Beca a damn thing,” Chloe snapped. “And that’s mean.”

He sighed. “You need to tell her, alright. It’s sort of depressing watching you be so… unlike Chloe. Actually, I don’t like it. You tell her or I will.”

Chloe’s mouth fell open. Even Aubrey hadn’t given her that sort of ultimatum and she’d been dealing with mopey-wallowing-Chloe for nearly a month now. This was cold.

Luke pressed his palms onto the bench and leaned forward so Chloe’s vision was filled with his suddenly serious expression. “Tell Beca tonight, Chloe.”

“Tell Beca what?”

Chloe could’ve died right then and there. In fact, she gave melting into her stool her very best shot. But no matter how she scrunched her nose up or how tightly she closed her eyes or just generally concentrated on turning into a puddle of viscous goo, it didn’t happen. And then she felt someone slip onto the stool beside her and there was warmth radiating from them and Chloe felt herself dying a little on the inside.

Grudgingly, Chloe opened one eye and saw Beca smiling at her tentatively. Her brown hair pulled up in that messy way she had, steel eyes soft, earrings reflecting the light of the lamp on the bar. Chloe gave melting another shot. Still nothing. Luke huffed and walked out muttering about how completely insane all women are.

Chloe ignored Beca’s question. “How did you know I was here?”

Beca shrugged. “Aubrey said you’ve been visiting Luke a lot lately. Also the last time you felt the need to drown yourself in alcohol you came here. I figured you’d stick to what you know.”

She sighed, wanting nothing so much as to disappear. She couldn’t do it. There was no way Chloe could tell her. Especially not when Beca always looked so happy with Jesse. She didn’t have it in her.

“Chloe?”

She realised she’d zoned out. “Huh?”

Beca smiled at her again in the way that made her heart stutter. “Are you alright?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Don’t lie to me, Chloe Beale,” Beca said, a warning in her tone that Chloe hadn’t been ready for. “You’ve been out of sorts for a while now. Spit it out.”

So much for her non-invasive friend.

“It’s nothing,” Chloe tried again. “I promise.” Trying to prove it she smacked a smile on her face. It probably looked too big to be real.

“Oh my god!” Luke’s voice echoed from the back room. “For the love of all that’s goddamn holy, Chloe, tell the girl.”

“Stop listening in, you perve,” Chloe hollered back.

Beca laughed; confusion in her eyes, but amusement on her face. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“No!” Luke bellowed, his head protruding from the doorway now. “You’re both forbidden from leaving until Chloe stops moping around. You stay right there, Beca. So help me if either of you moves before this mess is resolved I’ll set Aubrey on you both.” 

“Yikes,” Beca muttered, still smiling though. And despite her mood, Chloe smiled too. Silence descended, but with Beca’s eyes on her all full of patience and understanding, Chloe had a feeling it wouldn’t last. And she was right. “Will you tell me what’s bugging you?”

“What if I said I didn’t want to,” Chloe asked softly.

Chuckling, Beca replied, “I don’t think you have a choice. Luke will probably tie us down.”

Chloe sighed, tapping on her glass again. Once again, she stopped when she realised what song it was. She hoped Beca hadn’t noticed. That was silly, of course Beca noticed. Who was she kidding?

“Ah…” she breathed, poking the place on the bench were her breath misted. “I knew this girl at school,” Chloe started, figuring the best place to begin was… well, the beginning. “Lara, she goes here now. And she has this nasty habit of finding out who people ‘like’ and then telling that person. It can make things awkward. Especially when that person doesn’t share your sexual preferences. I’ve been really worried since I saw her about a month ago that she’d do the same thing now that she did back then. I don’t really want to lose a friend for something this stupid.”

Chloe had discovered that drawing patterns in the damp on the wood was fascinating, and much easier than looking Beca in the eye. A really long minute passed where nothing was said and the assortment of emoticon faces had started to fade. She peeked out of the corner of her eye at Beca and was shocked to find her sitting there just smiling. 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Chloe prodded.

“Sure. Did you want me to make a cognitive leap there, Chlo? Cause I can totally do that, but it might be the wrong one.”

All Chloe could do was nod. Speaking seemed a bit beyond her at that point. Beca shifted beside her, but Chloe had returned her attention to the wood again. Consequently she was (pleasantly) surprised when Beca kissed her cheek. But startled nonetheless.

She gasped, looking around without thinking and banged her head into Beca’s. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Beca patted her temple. “No that’s fine. I’ll just have to announce it next time.”

She finally managed to turn into that puddle of goo. “Next time?” she asked in a voice much smaller than she was used to using.

“Unless my cognitive leap was _totally_ wrong,” Beca said, smiling sheepishly as she rubbed her neck. “Then yeah, next time.”

“Please,” Chloe murmured, “put me out of my misery and explain that leap for me.”

Beca shrugged. “I’m not straight, Chloe… well ok, maybe a little. I go both ways. You didn’t have to worry about this _Lara_ telling on you. It’s not like I was gonna hate you for it.” She smiled again. “I kinda like you too, you know.”

She shivered. For someone as oblivious as Beca, Chloe was surprised she’d gotten it right in one go. No three guesses, no phone a friend. She just knew. Chloe stared at her.

“Now,” Beca began again, touching her head where Chloe had hit her and wincing a little. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

Chloe smiled. “I’d be alright with that.”

“You won’t attack me again?”

“Promise.”

Luke slammed the door. Chloe sighed, frustrated by the interruption but before she could verbalise her displeasure he spoke. “Thank god,” he said. “It’s about time. Now get out. I’m closing up for the evening and there’s no sex on the table.”

They laughed at him.


End file.
